


Forged Piece-by-Piece

by Marijke_Rose



Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Day 16, Forced to beg, M/M, Whumptober 2020, no.16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marijke_Rose/pseuds/Marijke_Rose
Summary: Of the Tallest pair, Purple is the one who throws people out the airlock, or he was the one who ordered Zim to Hobo 13 to his hopeful death while Red tends to show more tolerance. But why is that?
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Almighty Tallest Red
Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948705
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Forged Piece-by-Piece

As majestic as he was fearsome, everyone agreed that Purple, Almighty Tallest of the Irken Empire, was a force to be reckoned with. And there was not a single one who dared cross him.

“Please, my Tallest,” a smaller whose name Purple had forgotten - if he ever knew it to begin with - pleaded with him, trailing at his heels as he hovered down the corridor.

“No.”

A look from Purple, however, silenced him and he backed down fearfully. After that look, it never required much before threats of the airlock or dungeon, or  _ worse, _ followed. Threats Purple would turn into  _ promises. _

There was a reason Purple, cold as ice, was the way he was.

  
  


***

  
  


“Why don’t you try begging?” The cruel taller sneered down at him. Ruby eyes that seemed to burn right to Purple’s very ‘spooch and sear him at his very core.

All of those ruby eyes, looking down at him with arrogant superiority. Assessing. Judging. And finding him unworthy.

“B-beg?” Purple stammered as he looked up. His already large eyes even wider in his desperation.

Unworthy of calling himself an Irken.

“You heard me right.”

“But-”  _ …‘I don’t want to beg.’ _

Unworthy of calling himself an Irken let alone an  _ invader. _ And no number of accomplishments seemed to change their minds.

His antennae hurt. Held in the excruciating vice-like grip of powerful,  _ Irken _ claws.

_ “Beg.” _ The word hissed with such wicked glee that Purple felt his blood freeze.

The grip tightened. Twisting. Until the sensitive and delicate stalks felt as though they would tear right from his head.

Ruby eyes. None offered hope or help. Nor reprieve. There was no end to his suffering. Unless…

“Beg!”

…He begged. Took the very last shred of his dignity and threw it before their feet for them to destroy with laughter as destructive as the lasers in their PAK’s.

There would be nothing left of Purple after that. Nothing worthwhile, anyway. Nothing worth the air he breathed or the PAK on his back.

Not begging was all he still had…

_ “BEG!” _

…And then they took that away from him too.

He fell to his knees, buckling under the terrible grip as he felt a sharp tearing sensation.

He fell to his knees, tears in his eyes, and  _ begged. _

He gave them what they wanted in sobs and sniffles and hiccups. Breaking the last of who he was.

Afterwards, he lay on the hard floor. A puddle of misery and humiliation, with tears running down his face.

“Pur?”

It was like silk. Like glaze. The finest frosting. The donut that was so rich and fine that it melted on your tongue.

Soothing like a salve. It warmed his blood and cooled his burns. Just like the hand the voice belonged to as it touched his forehead. The tips caressing him so softly.

He looked up into fiery red eyes. Tempests of fierce and powerful flames. Just like the Irken they belonged to.

He sniffled. “R-red?” And wiped his mouth.

Red wiped his cheeks with his sleeve.

“Don’t worry, Pur,” the soldier assured him. “I'll catch them, one-by-one, and make them beg.”

Purple raised his head curiously.

“I will  _ force them to beg.” _ Red’s almost-whisper was sharper and deadlier than a snarlbeast’s blood-curdling yowl before it came in for the kill. “And then you will decide their fates.”

And exactly that came to pass. Purple’s sentence was harsher than anything anyone had ever known. With each cry, each plea, each scream of terror, each tear of realised hopelessness, he regained a piece - a tiny piece - of his own dignity back. A piece of himself. So he slowly rebuilt and shaped the most feared Tallest the universe had ever known.

Because begging never worked on him.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon has always been that Purple, despite his (eventual) height had it tough growing up and Red was pretty much the only friend he had. I like to think the two always had a special bond from they day they were activated.


End file.
